A Demon's Kiss (Young Adult Romance) (22 page)

But I had to go with Logan. I promised him. Only I couldn’t go quite yet. There was something I had to do first.

CHAPTER 34

My heart practically pounced out of my chest. Jumping back, I stumbled over the rocking chair beside me, knocking a couple boxes from the rafters down on my head.

“You’re an idiot,” I muttered to myself, trying to get a grip.

It was just a spider. It ran across my hand as I was rifling through my father’s paintings. I didn’t like spiders anyway, but they wouldn’t normally send me into cardiac arrest. It was just that I was up in Beth and Dad’s creepy attic. The simple fact I was up here was enough to give me the shakes, I didn’t need unexpected crawly things. As it was, I was so frightened, I was surprised I didn’t pee my pants.

Something about our attic was spooky. I guess because a lot of the stuff up here belonged to my father, and most of it he acquired while he was with my biological mom, Amanda. Like his paintings. My father was a dentist, but while he was with Amanda he became an artist. His pictures were breathtaking, beautiful. I used to study them for hours. But then...I became afraid of the attic.

It was because of a long time ago, after my father died, I’d been playing up here and Beth didn’t know. She’d come home from a business party after drinking too much and she couldn’t find me. It scared her. Finally, she found me up in the attic, looking at the paintings.

“Those paintings!” she fumed. “I should burn those damn things.”

“Why?” I asked, totally baffled by her anger. Beth didn’t often drink, almost never, and it took a lot to get her upset. It frightened me to see her acting so strangely. “They’re beautiful.”

“Yes, they’re beautiful—they’re stunning. But your father couldn’t paint to save his life. He was a dentist for heaven’s sake, not an artist.”

“But he was an artist,” I protested. “He was a dentist and an artist.”

Looking distant, Beth shook her head. “The man went to the Cove on a business trip, my husband, a dentist. He couldn’t paint—he was an awkward dabbler at best…. These works aren’t your father’s. They’re the devil’s.”

A shiver ran through me even now as I thought of her saying that.

Afterwards she’d rubbed her forehead as though having a horrible headache. “Don’t listen to me Michaela. I’ve had too much to drink. Run off to bed, won’t you darling, before I say anything else I’ll regret?”

I obeyed and padded off to bed, never again drawing enough courage to reenter the attic. Until tonight. After learning about Danielle, I needed to search through my father’s old paintings.

It was crazy, I knew, to be so fixated about seeing Danielle. My life as I’d known it was about to be snuffed out of existence. And I hadn’t even known Danielle existed until tonight. But I had to see her. I had to. She was my sister, a part of me. Learning she was taken left an empty hole inside me.

“There are pictures of her.”

Startled, I turned to find Beth standing in the doorway. She was still wearing her raincoat, her hands tucked deep inside the pockets.

“Pictures of Danielle—that’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it?” Without me having to answer, she pulled down a large crate from the rafters. “I was going to tell you about her when you were older—I don’t know when. Somehow, it just never seemed like the right time. You never asked questions...I was frightened to bring up the past—frightened for you.”

With unsteady hands, I opened the crate.

Beth stood beside me. “She was a beautiful little girl, wasn’t she?”

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the dimpled baby. In silence, I rubbed away a tear as it slid down my cheek. “She looked like daddy.”

“Your father said she loved you very much.”

Without meaning to, having no idea I was going to, I started to sob. It hurt to look at that beautiful baby and know she was dead, to know that she was my sister and I couldn’t even remember her.

It was painful to be crying. I never cried in front of people, ever. But I couldn’t stop. Without a word, Beth put her arms around me, pulling me close. I wanted to tell her that I loved her—that I was glad she was my mom. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t say anything. Instead I just held on to her tight, hoping she knew the things I couldn’t say.

CHAPTER 35

Up in my room, I wondered what to take. What does a person need in hell? My guitar. That was all I could think of. And maybe a couple pairs of underwear.

Startled, I turned to find Logan in my room. He hadn’t made a sound.

“What are you doing here?!” I asked, angry that I had to leave my beautiful world, full of Gage and...Gage. “You can’t just sneak into a person’s room like this. There’s such a thing as privacy—haven’t you ever heard of privacy?!”

The whole time I was ranting, Logan just stared at me, patiently waiting for me to calm down. It made me even madder.

“Is this what it’s going to be like for the rest of my life? Every where I go you’ll just show up?” In my mind, I went on ranting,
Who is he to think he can just creep up to my room any time he feels like it? He has powers so he thinks he doesn’t have to follow the law…
blah, blah, blah.

I just really didn’t want to go, that was all. I guess I was trying to pick a fight, but Logan wasn’t biting. He was getting his way. He was as happy as could be.

 
“Ugh! I don’t want to go with you!” I exploded. “You killed Justin, right? You did that?—you killed him?”

Logan looked me dead on. “I did it for you.”

I felt sick. “You think I wanted Justin dead?” I clutched my stomach “You murdered him?”

I was shaking so bad, I dropped my guitar. How could he think it was for me?

 
“It
was
for you!” Logan punched the wall.

I didn’t want to fight with him anymore. I couldn’t fight with him. All I could think of was that he was a murderer. He purposely killed Justin.

Logan sat on my bed, watching me. “Michaela, he killed a girl from your school. He raped her and killed her.”

I sank to the floor, no longer able to stand, or breathe. “Justin killed Rachel Bower?” I couldn’t believe it, yet now it all made sense. “It was Justin?”

“He wanted to do that to you, too, Michaela. And he would have gone on, doing it to other girls. Girls that rejected him. Michaela, I had to stop him. He wanted to hurt you.”

I looked away from him, not knowing what to say. He saved Gage—twice. And he’d saved me. But still, I didn’t want to go with him. I really, really didn’t. He wanted to drag me back to hell, to the evil hooded minions from my nightmares, the demons that killed Danielle.

“Look, you don’t have a choice anymore,” he said. “You swore, your life for his. You’re a demon now.”

“Before I wasn’t?”

Logan set his jaw. He didn’t answer.

My voice was shrill. “Logan, I didn’t used to be a demon?”

He wet his lips, running his hands through his hair. “You were half. Your dad was a mortal, and, apparently you didn’t drink the Caldronon’s blood. But now—now you swore your soul to me, your life for a mortal’s.” He shrugged. “You’re a demon.”

“But I don’t feel—I’m not any different.”

He stared into my eyes. “You’re a demon.”

“You tricked me,” I whispered.

He flicked me a look, but he didn’t respond. Instead he said, “You can’t stay here. You’re a demon now, you have no claim in this world. I don’t have to make you come with me, not anymore—you’ll just vanish from here...and you’ll be there.”

Hearing that made a shiver run through my body, imagining it made me sick.

 
“You won’t be able to find this world again,” Logan said.

My stomach twisted, not understanding, not believing. “I’ll vanish from this world?”

He nodded, not looking smug, not smug at all. He looked sad, like he knew I would miss this world...miss Gage.

“You won’t be able to find him,” Logan said, reading my thoughts. “Just like I couldn’t find you.”

I bit my lip to stop it from quivering. I didn’t want to spend my life with Logan—he had burned my head, purposely pulled my hair, killed Gage, killed Justin. No, no, no! I didn’t want to spend my life with him.

Logan took a deep breath. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Because you tricked me!” I screamed.

He shook his head, his eyes somber. “I didn’t trick you. But this isn’t how I wanted you to come with me—hating me, afraid of me.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Michaela, I love you. This is messed up.
I
messed up. I need you to forget it—all that stuff I did.” He stared into my eyes, looking desperate. “I need a second chance.”

PART 3

SUNRISE

CHAPTER 36

I threw my journal and ran to the bathroom to puke. I heaved into the toilet again and again, until nothing would come up, then I lay across the toilet sobbing. Apparently, Logan had given himself that second chance. He made me forget everything. Everything! It had all been blocked from my mind—his first day of school, him killing Justin, all of it. Apparently he had made everyone else forget too.

I curled up into a tight ball on the cold bathroom floor, shaking. The world was spinning, twirling.

Before Logan came, I had choices. I wasn’t a demon, not yet, not quite. But now I was—a full-fledged demon. And I would be banished from this world, from Gage, forever.

Tears started to pour down my face. I cried for hours, until tears wouldn’t come anymore, mourning the end of my life in this world, my life with Gage. I cried and cried and cried. But then I started to feel differently. It was strange. But it was like somehow I knew something,
almost
knew it. It wiggled around in my brain, giving me hope. I started to think—no, more like
feel
—maybe Logan was wrong. Or he tried to trick me again somehow. I mean, I was still here, in this world. Maybe I wouldn’t have to leave after all.

“I didn’t trick you,” Logan said grimly.

I jerked up, shocked to find him in the bathroom doorway, watching me, and obviously reading my thoughts.

“You said I have until sunrise.” I scrambled up from the bathroom floor half-embarrassed, half-mad. It was upsetting to be caught so undignified. Especially by him.

I gave a sideways glance toward the mirror, knowing I must look a fright. I’d puked in the toilet for hours, then bawled my eyes out, and I’m so not a pretty crier. I’m a red-nosed, puffy-eyed crier.
Bet he’ll think twice about being bound to me now,
I thought.

He smirked, looking both discouraged yet amused. “No, sorry. I’m not having second thoughts.”

Ugh! It wasn’t fair he could read my mind.

 
“You said I have until sunrise,” I grumbled again.

“You do. I’ll leave you alone...if you want. I just didn’t want you to get your hopes up. Michaela, you’re a demon. You can’t stay in this world.”

It was like he knew everything I’d been thinking, all of it. Like he’d read my mind and came here to warn me specifically that I was wrong, that I shouldn’t set my heart on impossible dreams.

“But maybe
you
’re wrong,” I said stubbornly. “Can’t you be wrong? You’ve never been here before, have you?”

He set his jaw. “I’m not wrong.”

“Okay, well, lets just pretend you are,” I said, because now I was pretty sure he was. While I was doing all of that crying, I started to feel things,
know
things. Know things that it didn’t really seem like I should know. Still, somehow I knew. I just...did. Like somehow I knew I wouldn’t have to leave. Okay, maybe not
knew
. “Knew” was a little strong. But I
felt
it. Somehow.

Logan gave me a quizzical look, furrowing his brow. He seemed slightly worried for me. “Michaela, don’t get your hopes up.”

He was concerned for me. I could tell. It was sweet. Sort of.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t make sense,” I said, because, well, yeah, it didn’t make sense. “But I’m
feeling
things. Maybe I’m having a nervous break down, but will you just...go along with it? Humor me?”

He bit his lip, eyeing me warily. He took a deep breath. “Michaela, I’ll do whatever you want.”

It was kind of heartbreaking that he was so sweet, yet evil at the same time. He scared me, terrified me big time, but I knew I would miss him when he was gone.

“Michaela …” He bit off whatever he was going to say, looking discouraged. “You’re going too.”

I didn’t say anything. What was the point of arguing with him about it? I was either wrong and would be going to hell, or he was wrong and I wouldn’t. I guess I had until sunrise to find out.

“Right,” he said, obviously reading my thoughts.

He studied me, the expression in his eyes changing slightly. He still looked concerned, but a little curious as well. “What do you mean, you
feel
things?”

I shook my head. “I can’t explain it. I really can’t.” But then, I went ahead and tried, because he was really listening and trying to understand, even though I sounded crazy, even to myself. “It’s like—like I can see the future. Sort of.”

Logan nodded slightly, looking bewildered, not like he agreed with me, but like he accepted what I was saying, that I could see my future. He tilted his head, faintly. “And I’m not in it?”

I shook my head, but he looked so sad, I quickly went on to explain, “I don’t really see my
future
future. I mean, not the way off distance. I just somehow
feel
that I’m not going. I don’t think I am.”

I knew that wasn’t exactly good news, to him or maybe even to me. I had no idea what was going to happen, no idea why I wasn’t going to go. I just didn’t feel that I was.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, seeming to consider what I was saying, taking it seriously. When he spoke, he did it hesitantly, like he didn’t want to mess with my hopes, but he wanted me to understand. “Michaela, you’re a demon,” he said. “There’re rules. You’re not connected to this world anymore.” He had told me this already, but he was saying it again, this time more gently. “So, I don’t understand your new feelings. All I know is, you can’t stay.”

I sighed, understanding about the rules, sort of. But sort of not. “Okay, but the reason you’re here—in this world—it’s because of me, right? You’re linked to me?”

He tilted his head, then nodded.

I pushed the bangs out of my eyes, realizing he probably wouldn’t go for what I wanted to attempt. Only, since I now truly believed I wasn’t going to go—for whatever reason—because I had no idea
why
I wasn’t going—I needed him to try. I needed him to be okay with this, so we could both be okay with however this turned out. Because at sunrise, something
was
happening. Something big...I just didn’t know what. “Okay,” I said, “so, I’m going to try to unlink us.”

Logan squeezed his eyes closed, looking pained. “How are you going to do that?”

I bit my lip. “I need your help, Logan.”

I watched him leaning against the doorframe, not looking at me, contemplating what I was asking, probably thinking I had no right to ask it. Finally, he looked at me questioningly, apparently waiting for my request.

 
Seeing the sadness in his eyes broke my heart. “There must be a spell, right?”

He looked away, leaning his head against the doorframe again. “I doubt it.”

My heart sunk. I’d thought I had come up with an answer. “Really? Isn’t there a spell for everything?”

He looked at me like I was nuts. “No.”

The guy had called up monsoons, and made my whole school forget an entire week, but he didn’t have a spell to unlink us?

“No Michaela, I don’t have a spell to unlink us,” he said. “We’re linked to the
whole
Caldronon—the whole Caldronon. There’s no way to unlink that, ever.”

A shiver went through my body hearing him say that. For a moment, I was silent. Was I crazy? Thinking I was going to get to stay? Were my new extra-sensory
“feelings”
just delusion? I stared at him, knowing he could read my thoughts. I waited for him to answer.

Finally, he looked at me. “I don’t know what’s going on with you,” he said soberly, finally answering my unasked question. “You
have
changed. I don’t know why, I don’t know what it’s about. Something in you has changed, though. Definitely.”

He didn’t seem happy to tell me this. He seemed reluctant. And sad. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t know if your feelings are real.” He ran his hands through his hair. “I hope they’re not.”

“I hope they are.”

He set his jaw, looking away. “Yeah Michaela. I get that.”

***

I started pestering him with questions. I knew I was pressing my luck. I mean, he made Justin blow up. But I only had until sunrise to make things right, to make the knots twisting in my stomach go away.

“Okay, so we can’t get unlinked from the Caldronon,” I relinquished grimly. “But
you’re
under a spell, thinking you love me.”

He shook his head, looking away. “It’s not a spell.”

“Well, is there a spell to counteract it?”

He rubbed his hands in his face. “Counteract what? My feelings?”

I nodded.

He shook his head without saying anything. For a long time, we were both silent. I couldn’t help thinking about the dance—that that’s where we’d be right now if I hadn’t found that picture of me in his glove-box. I’d be in his arms.

He stared up at the ceiling. “Maybe there
is
a spell. Maybe. But if there is, I don’t know it.”

That may have been sobering news for him, but it made me blink up at him with hope. “How can we find out?”

If my computer had useful internet connection of course we could Google the information. But though I now had a nice computer (thanks to Logan) our internet access was like, non-existent. “How can we find the spell?” I asked, then sarcastically suggested, “Look in the yellow pages under occult?”

Logan raised his eyebrows.

So, yeah. That’s how we found The Red Palm, the only occult store nearby.

Before we left for the store though, I grabbed my journal, wanting to drop it off at Gage’s. I didn’t explain why to Logan though. He could read my mind, and I didn’t want to have to try to get the words out.

In Logan’s car, he glanced at the journal resting in my lap.

“I wrote something at the back of it,” Logan said. “It’s to you.” Then he added. “It’s an explanation. About why I acted like I did—you know, when I tried to start over.”

I stared at his writing in my journal a long time before I could bring myself to actually read it. But this is what he wrote:

“Those other girls I was with—the ones before I talked to you—Chloe and Shayna and Lauren, all of them—they were just practice. I was practicing how to be a boyfriend. So when I finally talked to you, this time I could get it right, be a good boyfriend—like you wanted. See, it was just because I blew it so bad the first time we met. I just wanted to get it right this time. So, I practiced on them...and watched you.”

I read the note with a lump in my throat, unable to speak for fear I would cry.
You were a good boyfriend,
I thought as hard as I could, hoping he could hear me.

“I gave you a bunch of gifts while I waited,” he said.

I wiped away a tear.
He
had given me all those anonymous gifts on my doorstep. It had been him after all. “They were nice,” I managed to choke out.

He raised his eyebrows. “You threw them all away.”

“I’m...sorry. They scared me.”

“Yeah.” He looked out the window. “Everything I did scared you.”

***